Bury Me
by Marianne-Grey
Summary: This is AU - one of those typical "Harry gets sent to Azkaban" fics. Starts with a scene between Harry and Sirius 10 years after Harry is sent to Azkaban and he's just been released. All seems fine with Harry, but it's not; he can never be the same, carefree boy that he used to be; they made sure of that. And one way or another, Harry was going to make them pay. Warning inside.


Book 1: Bury Me

Chapter 1: Brought Together

**Warnings: This story will contain violence, coarse language, adult themes, etc. It will also be slash, yup; male/male, two guys going at it like rabbits, you got it? If this offends you, don't read it and find something else more to your tastes. I don't care if I get flames; I see it as constructive criticism ;) Anyhow, read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Ginny would of died in the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius NEVER would have died in The Order of the Phoenix and Snape wouldn't have died in the Deathly Hallows. Also, my name is not J.K Rowling, no matter how much I wish I did, nor do I own the "Harry Potter" series, even if I **_**desperately**_** wish I did.**

He stood there, in cold silence. Trying desperately not to look at him, even though he knew it was inevitable. Minutes passed and the gaping silence that surrounded them grew colder and colder with every word left unsaid, with every look left unseen. Eventually, one of the figures shifted, sighing slightly before the sound drifted away. Lifting his eyes, he looked at the younger man, the man who had become so important to him. Cocking his head slightly, his gaze drifted over the man, taking in his appearance and searching desperately, almost religiously, for a sign of recognition.

The younger man kept his head down, long raven locks falling across his face and creating a curtain that veiled his features from the world. He sat slumped, his broad shoulders tilted forward and arms strained, hands tied behind the chair he was tied to. His lean body was covered in black, flashes of pale skin seen occasionally as his body shifted with his breathing. His legs were parted slightly and tied at the ankles to the chair; overall, he made a very dramatic picture.

"_Can I hold you?_

_Never leave me"_

The man standing shifted, this time impatiently and opened his mouth, looking for all the world as if he was going to say something, before he closed his mouth again and frowned. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply before opening them and slowly, carefully, striding to the younger man held captive in the wooden chair. As he stood in front of him, he became aware of his body trembling and suddenly realized how afraid he was; what if he didn't remember him, or worse, what if he did and wanted nothing to do with him? But, even worse was the thought that passed through his mind only seconds after his last thought; what if he was gone, what if his Harry wasn't there anymore, and all that was left was an empty, insane shell of a man?

Trembling, Sirius slowly knelt down until he was crouching on his knees. Still nervous, he lifted one of his hands and gently set it under Harry's chin, lifting his head up until Sirius could almost see his eyes. Shaking, he took a deep breath and steeled himself, trying to find his Gryffindor courage. Quickly, before he could lose his nerve, Sirius lifted Harry's head up the last few inches, before letting his gaze roam hungrily over the features he had not seen for 10 years; Harry's skin was no longer the golden colour that he remembered so fondly, instead it was a pale, milky colour, almost luminescent. His lips were still the same, or they would be when Harry had been looked after; once a plump, dusky pink they were now a dark red, littered with bite marks and teeth indentations from when Harry had tried to keep his screams in. His cheekbones were now higher and sharper, his cheeks sunken in slightly, but strangely not as much as one would expect from being in Azkaban for 10 years. His features were much more defined now, the soft features of his youth had given way to the harder angles of manhood; proof of it lay in the dark stubble spread over his jaw.

Seeing Harry's features after so long made Sirius shake with suppressed tears, but what really made Sirius cry, was when he saw Harry's once sparkling, hope-filled eyes. They were, ironically, still the same eyes that Sirius had fallen in love with, but they had changed, oh the change was subtle, but quite easy to see if you looked into his eyes for longer than five seconds. They were still outlined with long, thick black lashes that curved upwards, his eyes were still that same emerald colour that was so famous and they still sparkled, but now they were sunken in; they had dark shadows surrounding them, bruises left on snow white skin, the once joy-filled jewels that served as eyes were now cold and icy, but they still sparkled; only they sparkled with something sinister, something… broken, almost. And instead of happiness, they held rage. Rage at the world for tossing him aside, rage at Sirius for letting them, even if he himself had been held under guard and forced to watch as they took Harry away, and rage at himself for having been foolish enough to love again; he had always known that love only hurt you, but then he had met Sirius and fallen. He had _believed_ again that maybe love was something that could save him; maybe he wouldn't get hurt this time. But he had, and oh how he hated himself for that. And for Sirius, to see that in his Harry's eyes, made him feel even worse for what he had done, it made him feel _dead_ inside to see such a change in his love's eyes. Gasping and sobbing, Sirius cried, moaning out his apologies as he fell forward and leant against Harry's tied legs.

"_And every day I hope, that this feeling fades_

_On every page I turn, there appears your face"_

"Harry, oh Harry… I'm so sorry love… I tried, I did; you believe me right? I promise Harry…" and so it continued for a good few minutes until something miraculous occurred; Harry laughed. It was rough and sounded painful and bitter, but he laughed. When he had stopped laughing, he spoke. His voice came out like gravel, scratching roughly at the insides of his throat as he forced the words to come out, sounding hoarse and unused, almost husky; as if he had been smoking heavily for many years.

"Oh, Sirius, I know. Believe me Sirius, I _know_!" He crooned softly to his lover before chuckling again, before coughing from the painful overuse of his voice. Sirius stared up at him in shock; eyes red and cheeks tracked with tears. Sniffing, he whispered Harry's name as if saying a prayer. Eyes wide, unbelieving at first before crossing into cautious joy, he joyfully smiled at Harry before launching himself at him and hugging him to his chest. Frowning when he didn't get a response, Sirius looked down.

"…Harry?" He said hesitantly, "Are… are you okay?" he continued on softly.

"Fine, fine, just fine Sirius. I no less sane than I was ten years ago if that is what you are asking," Harry replied, his voice breaking as he tried to continue to talk, "but then again, I never was completely sane; I don't think anyone ever has been, after all we all have some form of insanity in us." He said, chuckling roughly before looking up at Sirius and smiling. And Sirius smiled back, watery that is true, but smiled all the same, choosing to forget the rage and emptiness, the utter coldness he had seen in Harry's eyes, and instead imagining it as a trick of the light, for now his Harry's eyes were warm again, still sparkling, maybe a little duller than before but nonetheless they were _happy_.

After a few moments silence where Sirius and Harry merely looked at each other, taking in their fill of what they had been missing for the last decade, Sirius suddenly started before sheepishly asking and rubbing the back of his neck, eyes still red and tearing up again;

"Should I untie you, then?" And Harry laughed, and it was nothing like the laugh of a few moments ago, this laugh was familiar and warm, and filled with amusement; it was _Harry's_ laugh.

"That would be nice, yes." Harry responded dryly. And if his voice held an underlying coldness, an unseen sadness, Sirius took no notice and passed it off as his imagination, after all, he had his Harry back, and that was all that mattered.

"_Can I survive, on my knees,_

_Begging for you, to come back to me"_

But as he untied Harry and led him out of the room, he missed the sudden flash of black that passed through Harry's eyes, and he missed the strange markings that littered the skin that was visible as he pulled Harry through a patch of moonlight, only for it to vanish as his skin came out of contact with the moonlight. And most of all, Sirius missed the lone, blood red tear that traced patterns down Harry's cheek before disappearing and leaving no evidence of itself behind. And perhaps, if he had looked back, he would have seen the darkness that flashed momentarily across Harry's face before disappearing and once more becoming a pleasant mask. But he didn't, and perhaps that would be his downfall.

"_Stay away, draw me near_

_Let me go, let me be_

_Hold me now, Set me free"_

**A/N:** So, guys, let me know if y'all want more chapters, or for this to remain a one-shot. If you guys do want more chapters, the next one will probably contain either flashbacks to how Harry got into Azkaban, or a whole chapter about it. So, let me know. (:

Love,

Marianne


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